


Master and Slave

by shadowglove88



Series: Master And... Series [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Age Changes, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Culturally Encouraged Sexual Deviance, Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Alternate Universe - Slavery, Alternate Universe - War, Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Arguing, Arthur and Merlin are very different due to this difference, BAMF Merlin, Bathroom Sex, Bathtub Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Bottom Lancelot, Boys Kissing, Cheeky Arthur, Conflicted Merlin, Court Sorcerer Merlin, Creampie, Dark Merlin, Deepthroating, Denial of Feelings, Dubious Consent, Everyone Is Gay, Explicit Sexual Content, Extremely Dubious Consent, Falling In Love, Feral Behavior, Fight Sex, First Time Blow Jobs, Gay Concubine, Gay Male Character, Gay Sex, Hand Jobs, Homosexuality, Idiots in Love, Igraine never died, Inappropriate Behavior, Jealous Arthur, Jealous behavior, Jealousy, Kissing, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, M/M/Magic, Magic, Magic was never banned from Camelot, Magical War, Male Concubine, Male Homosexuality, Master/Pet, Master/Servant, Master/Slave, Masters, Nipple Play, Older Man/Younger Man, Older Merlin, Oral Sex, Ownership, POV Merlin (mostly), Possessive Behavior, Possessive Sex, Prisoner of War, Revelations, Role Reversal, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Secret Identity, Self-Denial, Sex on Furniture, Sexual Slavery, Slave Arthur, Sleeping Together, Slow Romance, Snarky Arthur, Spitroasting, Strangers to Lovers, Stubborn Arthur, Surprise Kissing, Threesome - M/M/M(agic), Top Merlin, Under-Desk Blow Jobs, War, Younger Arthur, Younger Arthur Pendragon, master Merlin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-14
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2019-07-12 02:17:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15985493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowglove88/pseuds/shadowglove88
Summary: When at war with Camelot, Mercia captures a large quantity Camelot's knights to keep hostage. As a reward, King Bayard gives Merlin, his Grand Court Sorcerer, a sex slave as a gift in the form of one of the captured knights, a beautiful, difficult young boy named Arthur.





	Master and Slave

**Author's Note:**

> Oldy.

 

Merlin sighed, entering his chambers and undoing the clasp of his cloak, eyes flashing gold as his magic took over instinctively, like it was known to do, lifting the cloak and hanging it up neatly. The Court Sorcerer ran his hand over his hair and sat down on one of the two seats by the table, looking down at the intricate wood. The day had been stressful, full of battle strategies with his king. Even though they'd been able to win a major battle as well as capture a large portion of the enemy's rank that didn't mean that the war was won. Men bred for war were willing to die for their countries, and yet while Merlin might help his king come up with the battle plans---he was not a solider. He tried to make sure that there was as little bloodshed as possible, and yet as the months waged on he saw his hope of a bloodless victory die tragically and ugly.  
  
How many good people on both sides had had to sacrifice their lives for their countries so far?  
  
"You didn't even say hello," a voice scoffed from the bed.  
  
Merlin sighed, closing his eyes tighter. "Hello."  
  
He didn't know what his king was thinking of when he'd given Merlin the most beautiful male of the captured ranks. It was supposed to be some sort of reward, but the boy, who couldn't be older than eighteen, was as annoying as he was beautiful. Even though he knew that he was trapped, and that he had no way of escape, he never acted like he was a prisoner, was never afraid. Sure, he submitted, knowing his place, but Merlin could see in his blue eyes that he wasn't truly submitting, merely buying more time - planning his escape - or waiting for his army to rebel - or for the castle to be placed under siege.  
  
It'd been...stressful, the first couple of days after the boy, Arthur, had been given to him. The golden haired young man had been defiant and had fought, but Merlin had warned him, knowing how his king worked, that if the boy didn't submit, King Bayard would give him to a rough, violent man to 'teach him his place'. He knew that the boy didn't want to belong to him, didn't want to be his pleasure toy, but Merlin had tried to be soft and slow with him, and after that first time the blonde never struggled anymore...and the sorcerer felt a little less guilty about the situation thanks to the fact that the way the boy cried out, gripped him so tightly, and always finished before Merlin proved that he was gaining some pleasure from their union.  
  
"You don't look as annoyingly happy as you usually do." The voice was oddly enough not as derisive as it usually was, the younger man slowly getting up from the bed and going to sit on the chair opposite Merlin's. "Did something happen today?"  
  
It was situations like this that left Merlin conflicted.  
  
The last couple of months Arthur had been opening up to him more, had been less cranky and prattish. Sometimes Merlin nearly forgot the boy was a prisoner here, forced to serve Merlin's every need.  
  
"The King wants to end the momentary truce and invade Camelot with full force." Merlin didn't know why he was telling his slave what the king and he had discussed in private only hours ago. "Since... since the defeat that day..." the day when the golden haired lad had become his all those months ago... "Camelot's been slowly declining. Which is understandable given we have their best warriors in the dungeon below this castle. And there have been rumors leaking out that the Prince has a terminal illness."  
  
Arthur's eyes narrowed.  
  
Merlin sighed, understanding why the boy reacted this way given the fact the fact that the prince was the sole heir of the throne. If he died, Camelot wouldn't really stand a chance. "Apparently, if the spies can be believed, since a little before the battle we won... the prince became ill and was confined to his room. He still has yet to show his face in the castle, which means that whatever it is he's contracted must be very bad."  
  
"You must be happy to hear that." Arthur sneered.  
  
Merlin glared at him. "Have you not listened to me? Have you learnt nothing about me during these months you've been under my roof? Someone dying is not something that would give me joy!"  
  
Arthur looked at him oddly before sighing and lowering his head.  
  
Merlin didn't look at him, insulted and offended like only Arthur could make him feel. "You may sleep in the adjacent room tonight." The sorcerer stood, beginning to disrobe. "I don't require your services tonight."  
  
Arthur flinched.  
  
The sorcerer was just too tired and angry to really care. He just continued to take off his clothes, the movements jerky and frustrated.  
  
In truth the best thing for him right now would be to sink himself into that delicious body, to feel Arthur warm and tight around him, to hear that voice go husky with need as he whimpered and pleaded for more.  
  
When Merlin was inside Arthur it was the only time the boy let himself become vulnerable and...well...unlike the person who'd tried killing Merlin every night for the two first weeks he'd been placed in his service. In the end, Arthur had realized that even when asleep Merlin's magic was alert and protecting him, and the boy had, interestingly enough, decided that that made Merlin fascinating in a 'freaky' way. At least he'd stopped trying to kill Merlin, and things had become oddly comfortable between sorcerer and slave, with the golden haired youth spending his every night sleeping in his master's large bed instead of the small cot in the small room he was supposed to be occupying when not 'pleasuring'.  
  
Changing into his sleeping apparel, Merlin ignored his magic as it picked up the dirty clothes and placed them in the basket. The sorcerer went to his bed and got into it, looking up at the ceiling, cradling his hands behind his head as he ignored Arthur. He just didn't have the patience to deal with one of the boy's tantrums tonight. Not when the promise of death and bloodshed weighed heavily on his conscience.  
  
Sighing, he closed his eyes.  
  
He had to come up with a way to win this war without more people dying but was beginning to realize that there was no way that was going to happen. They couldn't keep taking prisoners. The dungeons were full as it was. It was going to get much worse, and it didn't matter who would win...in the end both sides would lose so many good, innocent people caught in a fight not truly their own.  
  
The momentary cease fire that had followed the grand victory on that battlefield had given Merlin hope that maybe they could end the war, that Uther would come to his sense and realize he was defeated thus surrender for the best of his people, yet that was not the case.  
  
The bed dipped under another's weight.  
  
A muscle jumped in Merlin's cheek as he kept his eyes closed. "I told you to sleep in the other room tonight."  
  
"Since when do I ever listen to your orders?" Arthur wanted to know, moving on the bed on his hands and knees, heading towards the sorcerer.  
  
Merlin didn't need his eyes open to know this.  
  
That muscle in his cheek throbbed harder. "Go to bed, Arthur. I don't have the patience to deal with you tonight."  
  
"Yeah, I am terribly afraid of you right now."  
  
Merlin snapped, twisting in the blinking of an eye so that he was trapping Arthur down against the mattress, glaring golden eyes fiercely into his face. "How can you not get that you're a prisoner here?!? You push and you prod and you act all insolent when you should be licking my boots because of how good I am to you and how I put up with you!" His eyes flashed brightly as his magic restrained Arthur's hands above him so that Merlin's hands were free to fist angrily in the sheets. "Any other master would have raped and beaten you half to death by now! Any other sorcerer master would have put you under the fires of hell for the first assassination attempt! Not to mention the countless ones that followed after!"  
  
And what was even more infuriating was that at this very second Arthur didn't look scared. The bastard. He met Merlin's gaze evenly, as if he were his equal - if not his superior - in a way that the sorcerer would have admired if it didn't irritate him so much.  
  
And the throbbing hardness Merlin could feel beneath him... and the darkening of Arthur's uniquely hued blue eyes...  
  
The sorcerer closed his eyes. "No."  
  
He rolled off of the slave and forced his magic to let go of him as he rested his arm over his eyes. "Go to the room, Arthur."  
  
There was a slight growl next to him.  
  
Merlin ignored him, taking a deep breath, trying to calm himself.  
  
He refused to touch Arthur tonight.  
  
He would be a monster if he did.  
  
More of a monster.  
  
He knew that there was dubious consent in their night unions, Arthur was his sex slave for crying out, but he didn't want to take the boy like he was now - furious. He wouldn't hold back like he usually did, he'd most definitely hurt him, and despite how much he wanted to hurt Arthur sometimes, Merlin knew he'd never forgive himself if he did.  
  
" _Go to your room_!" Merlin ordered, voice a snarl, and his magic seemed to realize that he was about to snap because Arthur disappeared from the bed and reappeared in the adjacent room seconds before the door between them shut, locked.  
  
And thus began the angered shouts as Arthur pounded on the door, asking Merlin who he thought he was and demanding to be released  _this instance_.  
  
Merlin whispered a silencing spell, sighed as he turned in bed, opened his eyes, and looked at the door.  
  
Things were really getting complicated.  
  
He wondered if he could just give Arthur back to Bayard...  
  
...but he flinched at the thought of Arthur being given to someone else to pleasure, which was without a doubt the fate that would befall the insolent, annoying, prat should Merlin give him up.  
  
No one else in Mercia would be patient enough to deal with Arthur like he had. They'd break him, and his spirit, and while that spirited vexed Merlin's soul greatly, the sorcerer would be damned to see it destroyed.  
  
In the end Merlin fell asleep looking at the door.

* * *

  
Arthur didn't speak to him for four days after that incident.  
  
They hadn't had sex either.  
  
Merlin didn't trust himself around the young slave boy, didn't trust himself not to let his darker, blacker side take over and hurt Arthur while buried so deep inside his warmth, so he refused to touch the golden-haired youth.  
  
Instead he sought out Lancelot, the King's Head Knight, and Merlin's sometimes lover.  
  
With Lancelot he didn't have to be cautious, fearing to hurt him. With Lancelot Merlin was free to be as rough and dark and animalistic as he buried himself inside the Knight, bit his flesh, consumed his lips, thrust so harshly he knew it must hurt. But unlike Arthur, Lancelot had grown up in Mercia, so like all Mercians he was hardwired to _like_ a bit of pain. He even begged for more.  
  
"You know." Lancelot smiled as they lay in his bed in orgasmic bliss. "People are starting to whisper. They say that that little pleasure boy of yours can't be very good if you've left him completely on his own and instead spend your time in my bed." He waggled his eyebrows playfully. "I feel like the mistress."  
  
Merlin chuckled softly at that, shaking his head. "You'd be a horrible mistress."  
  
Lancelot snorted. "Oh really? I didn't hear any complaints moments ago."  
  
Merlin grinned. "Oh. No. No complaints. All I'm saying is that if you became a 'mistress' it would only be because you really loved the person... and you're not a person who can love and share. Thus, you're terrible mistress material."  
  
Lancelot thought that over. "You might actually be right, Grand Court Sorcerer."  
  
"It has been known to happen in the past," Merlin snarked cheekily.  
  
There was a rather urgent knock at the door. "Lord Emrys? Y-your slave b-b-broke loose and he w-w-was apprehended in the c-c-astle. His Majesty requests that you..."  
  
Merlin glared. "That boy!" He stood up and hurriedly began to dress himself. "I leave him for four days -  _four days -_ and he--!" With that he flashed out of Lancelot's room, still half dressed, and appeared in the throne room, where he'd guessed Bayard would be waiting for him.  
  
And true to his suspicion, Bayard was sitting on his throne, sharing an amused look with his manservant Owain, while Arthur was chained, forced to kneel by two burly guards.  
  
"Merlin." Bayard looked up at Merlin before smirking at his state of undress. "I see you were with Lancelot. I am sorry to have interrupted your time together. We all know how you have been enjoying it these past couple of days."  
  
Merlin shook his head at the king in amusement. Due to this he missed the glare Arthur sent his way.  
  
"My gift to you was trying to escape." Bayard motioned vaguely in Arthur's direction. "He must be feeling left out. Why don't you allow him to join you and Lancelot next time?"  
  
Arthur opened his mouth to hiss something that would most probably get him killed...  
  
...so Merlin spelled him so that he couldn't open his mouth.  
  
A second's confusion entered those uniquely hued blue orbs before they narrowed in comprehension and glared at Merlin, promising him hell for this.  
  
"I'm sorry, Your Highness, I will take better care of my gift." Merlin sighed, tired once more.  
  
It was like Arthur could just drain all the life out of him.  
  
"You do that, Merlin." Bayard dismissed him with a wave. "Now go. I want my Court Sorcerer rested and relaxed for our meeting tonight."  
  
"Yes, my lord." Merlin nodded, and with a flash he and Arthur were in their bedroom, the blonde unchained and with full faculty of his mouth...  
  
...Which he seemed to realize and use right away. "Who the hell do you think you are?!?" He hissed, glaring dangerously at Merlin as he stormed towards him. "You left me alone in this hellhole for four days! Four days you idiot sorcerer!"  
  
"I can take your voice away again," Merlin threatened with little to no heat as he walked passed the fuming youth.  
  
"And who is Lancelot?"  
  
"Arthur." Merlin threw himself on the bed. "Who were you before you joined the army? Were you a nobleman's son?"  
  
The boy froze. "I--why do you ask?"  
  
"Because you behave like a royal prat," Merlin replied easily. "And you feel entitled to things you've done nothing to deserve, on the contrary, you're a horribly behaved slave. The only explanation I can come up with for such a strongly ingrained character like yours is that you're one of the sons of some nobleman of Camelot. Not the oldest, since the oldest are the heirs and don't become knights because they become lords, but maybe the second or third son?"  
  
Arthur shifted slightly on his feet, looking younger than his 18 years at the moment.  
  
Merlin sighed as he shifted on the bed to better look at him. "Why did you try to escape? You must have realized that it would be impossible for you to free your comrades---or escape from Mercia undetected."  
  
Arthur leaned against the door, face tilted towards the floor, his expression marked with defiance.  
  
The sorcerer leaned back against the bed fully, looking up at the ceiling once more. "If you're going to sulk do so in your room. I have better things to do than to stay here and humor you."  
  
"I need to get back home," Arthur surprised him by saying with fierce determination. "I  _need_ to."  
  
"Well, you're not going home. Probably not ever." Merlin decided it was best to burst the bubble now. "And if you try to escape again I don't think even I could persuade Bayard not to have you killed. His suggesting I make you join Lancelot and I is a way of saying that I should allow someone else to rough you up if I am too kind hearted to do it myself."  
  
Arthur blinked.  
  
"So don't do anything stupid again or he'll have someone like Valiant take over your 'training'."  
  
Arthur went blanch, obviously thinking of the cruel knight who had tried to rape him the first night they'd been captured, which was how he'd come to the attention of the king in the first place. Valiant was bigger, stronger, and horrifyingly cruel.  
  
"Good. You're starting to see what I've been trying to tell you." Merlin yawned, tired from his time with Lancelot. "Go to bed. The ordeal must have been tiring."  
  
"Its the middle of the day," Arthur pointed out, not budging.  
  
"Then get a book and read, if you can." Granted, that was provoking and Merlin had done so on purpose, but Arthur had done something monumentally stupid, and thanks to that Merlin really didn't give a rat's ass whether he hurt the boy's sensibilities or not. "I am going to sleep. Just don't wake me up."  
  
"You're going to sleep." The disapproval was high in that voice. "You leave me to my own company, for four days, and when you finally deign to come back to your own room you go straight to sleep."  
  
"It never fails to amuse me how you seem to believe that I answer to you." Merlin chuckled softly, getting comfortable in the bed. "I've never met a slave like you before. There's just something about you, Arthur."  
  
There was silence.  
  
Blessed silence.  
  
"Are you sleeping with Lancelot like the chamber maids I overheard were saying?"  
  
"Yes, I'm sleeping with Lancelot." The sorcerer groaned as he opened his eyes and sat up on his elbows to look at the youth, surprised to see how forlorn he suddenly seemed there in the corner by himself. "Before you were given to me Lancelot and I were of an understanding."  
  
"So you got tired of your new toy and went back to the tried and the tested?"  
  
Confused by the utter venom in that sentence, Merlin frowned. "There are - certain necessities - that you would be unable to satiate."  
  
Arthur scoffed.  
  
"You don't understand." Merlin sighed once more, growing ever-more tired by the moment. "Do you know why Camelot will eventually lose this war?"  
  
Fire and anger entered those blue orbs.  
  
"Because they're  _soft,_ " Merlin told the boy, knowing that that comment would offend the blonde's pride and loyalty to his kingdom. "Sure, they're seasoned warriors and determined, but they cannot put up with the things we can and go on in battle. To a certain degree Mercian  _enjoy_  a little pain, both in battle, _and_ in pleasure."  
  
For a moment confusion mixed with the anger, and then it took over completely. Obviously the boy had no idea what Merlin was trying to say.  
  
The sorcerer took pity on him and sighed. "It's a chilly day. If you can lay here without disturbing me, you are allowed to."  
  
Arthur didn't answer.  
  
Merlin laid back down and closed his eyes, sleep slowly taking over him. But right before he succumbed to the heavenly darkness of rest, he felt the mattress shift under Arthur, and after a moment's hesitation, his warm body lay down next to Merlin's, and a head of golden hair rested itself over his heart.  
  
Merlin fell asleep with a smile on his face.

* * *

  
"I forbid you from having any further intimate relationships with this  _Lance_ -a-lot."  
  
Merlin hadn't expected those to be the first words uttered to him when he returned from his meeting with the King. Arthur always knew how to catch him off guard. "Excuse me?"  
  
Arthur was still laying in bed, where Merlin had left him sleeping when he'd gone to the king, hair tousled and skirt askew. He wore a petulant yet determined expression on his face, which was quite nearly a pout, and Merlin called himself a million vile names for finding it  _cute_.  
  
"You're never going to understand what sex slave means, will you?" The sorcerer laughed softly, shaking his head, as he closed the door that was magicked not to allow Arthur out of it (which really made Merlin wonder how the boy had escaped earlier on in the day, so he strengthened the magic on the door just in case).  
  
Arthur watched him from where he lay on his stomach. "When you said pain during pleasure... you meant... painful  _sex_?"  
  
Merlin paused, eyeing him. "In a manner of speaking, yes."  
  
Those eyes narrowed in utter confusion. "Why the devil would anyone like pain while they were having sex?!?"  
  
The sorcerer laughed at the perplexity in that tone. "Mercians like varying degrees of pain, either to inflict it or have it inflicted on them, I suppose it is just a part of our culture. It's just that sometimes certain situations..." he sighed, wondering why he was suddenly uncomfortable talking about this. "Sometimes, in times of stress... it's a more satisfying way of relieving said stress . Or - you know what? - forget it. I don't know why I'm trying to explain something to you that cannot, and does not, need to be explained. It isn't as if I would ever request that from you anyway."  
  
Arthur frowned. He didn't look nearly as relieved as Merlin had expected. Then again, Arthur was an annoying and confusing pain in the ass, so Merlin should have been expecting his contrariness by now.  
  
"Why wouldn't you request it of me?" Arthur made a face at the 'r' word. "As you love to remind me, I'm nothing more than your  _sex slave_. What should you care if I enjoyed it or not if _y_ _ou did_?"  
  
Once again Arthur had said the wrong thing.  
  
Merlin glared at the blonde as anger and darkness bubbled deep within his body. "Do you think me a monster? Arthur? Is that it?"  
  
The boy looked genuinely confused, and a little startled.  
  
"I know that this isn't the best of situations where you are concerned, I know that you were forced into this, and I know that it must be a nightmare for you to be so vulnerable, half clothed, as well as having to service the sexual needs of your enemy... but I cannot do anything to help you." He went to the window and stared out at the stars above. "I'm not going to hurt you on top of it. Sure, I know that it isn't the most comfortable or pleasurable experience for you, but I do my best to make sure you aren't hurt! And I'm sick or having to explain myself to you! You impertinent boy!"  
  
The sorcerer glared at the stars, as if this were all their fault. He failed to sense Arthur coming towards him until the boy hesitantly wrapped his arms around him from behind, hesitating yet again, before resting his cheek against Merlin's back.  
  
Merlin stiffened in shock, unable to believe what was happening.  
  
His shock continued to grow as those hands ventured down the flat of his stomach to cup him over the material of his trousers. Arthur's hands moved slowly yet surely, practice having taught him just how much pressure and speed Merlin enjoyed, the sorcerer hardening embarrassingly quickly under his ministrations. He wasn't sure why Arthur was doing this, but he allowed himself to be turned around, merely watching in awe as Arthur undid Merlin's trousers with nimble fingers before dropping to his knees before him. Those blue eyes stared at Merlin's throbbing, weeping member before he moved forwards and swiped his tongue slowly across the dripping slit.  
  
Merlin hissed in pleasure as Arthur took him in his warm, wet mouth, the boy's eyes straining up to catch Merlin's gaze while his hand ventured down to his own cock, timing his hand with his bobbing head. Arthur hollowed his cheeks, his tongue teasing yet bold.  
  
The sorcerer whimpered and leaned heavily against the wall, one hand going to that mess of golden locks, encouraging the boy as he took him in deeper and deeper, humming around the cock in his throat.  
  
It was hell to keep his hips from bucking, to keep from fucking the hell out of that marvelous little mouth, and just let Arthur do as he pleased. When Arthur did an amazing thing with his tongue Merlin was utterly surprised that he was still coherent enough to wonder what exactly was going on. He remembered when this, and any sexual chore, had been disgusting for Arthur, and yet now the expression on his face, the whimpers of need that were smothered by Merlin's cock, the way his hand moved desperately over his own cock...  
  
Merlin's eyes began to tint gold.  
  
_Gods_ , the boy was beautiful.  
  
He gave no warning as his body spasmed as he came deep inside that throat.  
  
Arthur drank it, eyes never leaving Merlin's face until a cry heralded his own climax and he came all over his hand. He then slowly pulled his mouth away, deliberately pressing his lips tightly around the cock, encouraging it to remain at half-mast.  Arthur leaned up on his knees and commenced to clean it with deliberate, teasing swipes of his tongue that not only managed to retrieve the trails of cum still coating it, but also coaxed Merlin's cock from its half-mast state to hard and throbbing once more.  
  
Merlin's eyes were now melted gold as he grabbed Arthur by his arm and jerked him to his feet, dragging him to the bed and flinging him a bit roughly onto it. His self-control was fragile at the moment, so when he descended on the boy his mouth was harsh and demanding, and the fingers he threaded through golden hair clenched into fistfuls as he tasted himself on those honey-lips.  
  
Arthur whimpered, grabbing fistfuls of Merlin's hair as he arched up under Merlin, wriggling slightly so that one of the sorcerer's thighs was between his. The cry that left his lips was devoured by Merlin's, but the dark haired man could hear the desperation and need in the sound as Arthur began to rut against his leg like a creature in heat.  
  
Merlin snarled, biting those lips in appreciation, one of his hands releasing the gold and venturing to the body, ready to bunch up the barely-there 'skirt' Arthur could boast of as his whole wardrobe... when there was a knock on the door.  
  
Arthur stilled beneath Merlin for a second before pressing up with his hips.  
  
Merlin groaned into the boy's lips, cock throbbing so painfully with the need to be buried inside of him he forgot all about the knock at the door. He kissed Arthur roughly, thrusting his hips against him, his cock brushing against the boy's body, betraying just how hard it was for him.

Shivering, Arthur reached between them to bunch up the skirt he wore. The move not only shocked and confused Merlin, but inflamed him. He did not understand what was different, what had changed, but for the first time ever Arthur was  _encouraging_ Merlin to penetrate him, and at the realization Merlin shuddered in intense agony as need for the blonde pulsated so fiercely within him it momentarily terrified him.  
  
"Merlin." Lancelot's voice quickly reminded him of the fact that he was awaiting on the other side of the door. "I know you are there. It is important that I speak to you."  
  
Something inside of Merlin snarled viciously at the persistent interruption, and it was this reaction which jolted him enough to get his senses straight. Despite this, the sorcerer groaned in deep regret as he started to pull away, only to freeze in utter surprise when Arthur's teeth clamped onto his bottom lip, the look on his face promising wordlessly to bite really hard if Merlin tried to move away any further.

That something within Merlin now purred, yet the sorcerer pushed it down once more as he conveyed with his eyes that Arthur needed to let go.  
  
_Now_.  
  
"Merlin." Lancelot sounded annoyed. "I need to see you at once."  
  
Arthur wasn't letting go, if anything, he was holding on tighter, eyes narrowed.  
  
In retaliation, Merlin reached down between them and squeezed a pert, hard nipple, twisting it slightly so that there'd be pain, though moderate.  
  
Arthur's eyes widened and he let go of Merlin's lip as his mouth opened in a guttural groan, his hips bucking up instinctively as he throbbed viciously beneath the sorcerer.  
  
Merlin stared down into Arthur's darkening eyes in shock. Unable to believe what had happened, he squeezed the nipple a little harder in experimentation, and his eyes widened even further when Arthur whimpered loudly, the boy throwing his head to the side as his body bucked once more.  
  
"Merlin!"  
  
Jumping in shock, having forgotten about Lancelot _yet again_ , Merlin pulled away from the flushing, needy looking youth and cleared his throat, pulling up his pants, ignoring the glare Arthur was giving him. "Hold on Lancelot." The sorcerer went to the door and opened it, glaring at the annoyed man on the other side. "This better be life or death."  
  
A bit of Lancelot's annoyance melted into amusement. "That good?"  
  
"Shut up," Merlin mumbled, exiting and closing the door behind him. "What is it?"  
  
Lancelot looked around him before shaking his head. "Let's go to the balcony."  
  
Frowning, Merlin joined his friend out onto the moonlit balcony that overlooked the beautiful castle gardens. Despite that, no one ever went there. "It's got to be dire if you wanted such solitude."  
  
The handsome knight ran his fingers through his hair. "I have just received word that today Camelot cemented an alliance with Northumbria."  
  
Merlin frowned, not only unhappy with the news, but surprised with that alliance in particular. "The truce has fallen."  
  
The knight nodded. "With Northumbria's manpower they will try and attack us once more. And with _that_ power, they might win."  
  
The sorcerer ran his hand over his hair, not quite agreeing with Lancelot yet preferring not to say so otherwise he might be asked why. Also, if he could avoid having to do that, to use that, then he would do his utmost for it to be so. "What has the king said?"  
  
"He's sending riders out to the neighboring kingdoms to seek alliances as well," Lancelot announced. "We will be entertaining any that are interested."  
  
"East Anglia has always wanted an excuse to go to war with Camelot. I won't be surprised if they haven't heard about the Northumbrian alliance and are already sending their messengers to us offering an alliance of their own." Merlin sighed heavily, knowing exactly what seeking alliances would no doubt cause. "I hate banquets."  
  
Lancelot nodded, placing a hand on his shoulder in a comforting gesture. "You need to be strong for our king. You're his right hand man, the one who has his favor."  
  
Merlin smiled bravely and nodded, deciding to push away his troubling worries for right now. "We should go to him now. He'll be needing both of our counsel."  
  
Lancelot smiled. "Why do you think I was so adamant in interrupting you? King Bayard sent me to get you."  
  
Merlin shook his head and walked away with Lancelot.  
  
By the time he returned to his room, it was late, and Arthur was sleeping, a petulant expression on his beautiful face.  
  
The sorcerer paused and looked at him before smiling slightly and bending to his knees by the boy's side of the bed, watching his face in the darkness.

Merlin reached forwards and softly touched the golden locks, running his fingers through them. He continued to watch Arthur, running his fingers through the golden silk, before trailing a finger down the side of that young yet determined face. That finger molested the pouty bottom lip before, with a sigh, the older male withdrew and went to bathe. He needed relaxing, and he didn't have the heart to wake up the youth to continue what had been interrupted, especially not after having left him the way he had.  
  
As Merlin stepped into the large container he'd magically filled with heated water, he wondered how long Arthur would refuse to speak to him  _this_  time.

* * *

Arthur was at his most beautiful when he was quiet, be it when he was sleeping, or pouting, or when he was on his hands and knees between Merlin's legs, worshipping his cock with his mouth. Ever since the day Arthur had tried to escape, the blonde had been doing more and more of the latter, and while Merlin was curious as to the change he would definitely not complain.

Tonight, the sorcerer sat at his desk, one hand gripping the book he was intent on studying, while the other reached under the desk, caressing the golden head that slowly, languidly, bobbed up and down his lap. It'd taken a while for Arthur to relax his throat enough to take Merlin's root all the way to its base, his nose buried in the dark curls nestled there, but Arthur was tenacious. And competitive. And a bit of a perfectionist.

Maybe, a part of it had to do with self-preservation. Not only had Arthur angered King Bayard by trying to escape, but there’d also been the rumors to deal with - and Arthur was smart enough to know that if it was seen as if he was a useless gift he might find his lot in life worsen. Merlin didn’t want to think that that was the reason for Arthur’s change in behavior, but he’d be an idiot, and very oblivious, if he didn’t consider it.

He wanted to believe that Arthur had learnt to love the feeling of his cock, the taste of his cum, and while at times it definitely seemed that way it probably wasn’t the case.

The thought made him clench his fingers in the hair he’d been caressing seconds ago, forcing Arthur’s head up enough for Merlin to look into those blue eyes, which were slightly disoriented, Arthur’s pupils a little larger than usual, a red blush dark on his cheekbones. Just the sight made him harder, and if the way Arthur’s eyes widened a fraction he could tell.

Merlin’s eyes flashed gold as his magic reacted, covering Arthur’s body like a second skin, like a ghost lover draped over the blonde’s thin frame, pressing a wanton need against him. This wasn’t the first time Merlin’s magic had presented itself this way, so physically,but it was a very rare occurrence, and was the first time it had done so to Arthur. Merlin hadn’t meant to do this, but his desire to fill Arthur completely had subconsciously manifested thusly as his magic surged eagerly to fulfill Merlin’s every desire.

Arthur gasped in reaction to what must, to him, feel impossibly like another man under the desk with him, one who was gripping his hips, pulling him backwards and towards a pulsating need. The youth reached blindly behind him, his hand touching the underside of the desk, confusion lighting his eyes as he stared up at Merlin in growing panic.

“It is merely me,” Merlin whispered soothingly as he put down his book and used his now free hand to brush Arthur’s hair away from his face. “It is my magic.” He stared into those eyes and watched the panic turn to surprise. “I just cannot decide which part of your body I want to be inside of the most.”

That blush darkened on Arthur’s face as the hand he’d been reaching behind him blindly with immediately returned to Merlin’s thigh. He gripped Merlin tightly, a groan reverberating in his throat and sending all kind of shivers down Merlin’s spine as his magic slowly penetrated Arthur’s body for the first time.

Merlin closed his eyes and threw his head back, his lips parted in a moan as his pleasure intensified. It was a if he were the one slipping deep inside of Arthur from behind, not his magic, the feeling magnifying the pleasure he’d already been enjoying from Arthur’s mouth.

Under the desk, Arthur’s back arched as his hips undulated, his body rocking from the rough invasion, driving him harder onto Merlin’s cock. Arthur choked, he coughed, he held onto Merlin tightly and spread his legs further apart while drool slipped from the corners of his mouth. His cock was hard between his legs and swinging with the violence of the invisible thrusts. A trail of sticky wetness dripped endlessly from its tip and dampened the floor beneath him.

Magic wrapped itself around that cock hungrily, enveloping it in tingling warmth.

Arthur sobbed around Merlin’s cock, the sound incredibly muffled, and quickly followed by more coughing, but the magic, nor Merlin’s cock, let up. 

Sweat dripped down Arthur’s chest and Merlin wanted nothing more than to follow its trajectory with his mouth, so his magic complied, latching onto Arthur where Merlin desired, giving the sorcerer the taste of Arthur’s flesh in his mouth as it continued to hungrily chase each bead of sweat as they made their way down Arthur’s chest all the way to his stomach.

Arthur’s body was twitching uncontrollably, that flush that had started on his cheeks was all over his skin, his nipples two small pebbles, his cock now gushing with sticky desire. His eyes were incredibly unfocused, as if the pleasure was overriding even his ability to think.

Staring down at him, Merlin only had his previous belief confirmed without a singe doubt: Arthur was at his most beautiful when he was quiet.

Merlin caressed Arthur’s face tenderly. “Relax your jaw a little more, pet, I want to be as deep inside of you as I can when I give you my seed.”

A shudder visibly ran down Arthur’s body as his eyes momentarily rolled in the back of his head before he managed to shake himself more alert. Arthur obediently relaxed as best as he could, taking Merlin deeper even, his jaw must hurt by now but he merely held onto Merlin’s thighs tightly as the sorcerer began to move, thrusting in deeply, languidly, before burying himself as deep down Arthur’s throat as possible, his pleasure bursting forth.

Arthur’s sob echoed around Merlin’s twitching cock as the blonde’s body twisted and contorted, his sob rising into a wail as his own cock pulsated and he spilled his seed onto the floor. 

The magic surrounding Arthur dissipated like mist as the blonde finally eased off of Merlin’s cock, which slipped from his swollen lips with an audible _pop_.

“Does your jaw hurt?” Merlin asked as he held out a hand towards Arthur, helping him slip out from under the desk. Already his magic was working to clean the room of any evidence of their fun.

“A little,” Arthur admitted as he rubbed his jaw.

Standing, Merlin cupped the golden youth’s jaw, caressing it softly with the the pad of thumb, infusing his magic into him. “And now?”

Arthur shivered, eyes a little darker, lips parted. “ _Better.”_

Merlin smiled, pleased to see Arthur react so favorably to the feeling of his magic seeping into him. “You have been so good today you will sleep with me in my bed tonight.”

A smirk twitched Arthur’s lips. “Yes, because that is so very different from usual.” And yet he left Merlin there and went to the bed, slipping in under the sheets.

Rolling his eyes at the boy who had no idea on how to actually behave as someone in his position should, Merlin fought the desire to laugh. It would do no good to encourage this behavior, no matter how much it amused him. 

Sitting back down, Merlin picked up the book once more and got comfortable in an attempt to read the old tome.

“Are you being serious right now?” the disbelieving voice huffed.

“Hmmm?” He didn’t look up, trying to find where he’d left off.

“Do you not plan on coming to bed as well?”

“I am not sleepy,” he replied, his gaze still skimming the passages. “I will read a bit longer.”

“Do you have some sort of tragic, hitherto unknown disability that prevents you from being able to read in bed?” Arthur did not let him digest that question, much less respond. “Your bed is always cold. At least read here and _warm me_.”

Merlin’s lips twitched despite his best efforts, as he finally tore his gaze from the tome and swung it on Arthur, who was glaring at him. Given the wolf fur that lined his bed he doubted it was cold in the least bit, and yet this tactic further fascinated and amused him. “ _You_ are supposed to warm _me_.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “And how I am supposed to do that if you are _over there_?”

He couldn’t keep the snicker from escaping his lips at that retort. Honestly, this behavior should annoy him, but if anything Merlin secretly enjoyed it. He’d always considered himself more sadistic than masochistic, but sometimes Arthur really made him question that.

Shaking his head, Merlin snapped the old tome shut as he stood and strode to the blonde, getting in under the sheets on his side of the bed. Hell. This was his room and his bed. There should not be 'his side' yet clearly Arthur had staked claim to his own side of the bed, and Merlin hadn't complained. Until Arthur had become his slave Merlin had never spent the whole night with someone, and yet unless they had had a terrible argument Arthur spent every night in his bed with him. Merlin had thought he'd feel overwhelmed, or claustrophobia, yet instead he found himself enjoying the company, the warmth, the way Arthur curled around him once he was asleep.

His magic darkened the room other than a small ball of light which wouldn’t bother Arthur’s sleep, yet would give Merlin ample light to read with.

Arthur turned his back on Merlin and shimmied backwards so that his back was pressed up against Merlin’s side. 

Amused, Merlin reached over and caressed Arthur’s hair softly as he opened up the tome once more, found where he’d left off, and began to read to himself. He continued to brush his fingers through those golden locks long after Arthur relaxed enough to drift into sleep, only stopping when, a couple of hours later, Arthur shifted in his sleep with a groan and curled around Merlin’s body.

Glancing down at the sleeping boy, Merlin pressed a kiss to his fingertips and brushed them softly against Arthur’s lips, which was something he would have never been able to get away with had the blonde been awake.

Yes, without a doubt Arthur was most beautiful when he was quiet, and it was moments like this that Merlin secretly treasured the most.

* * *

 

True to Merlin's prediction, East Anglia rallied up happily, and along with Wessex (who didn't particularly like Northumbria) they joined forces with Mercia to battle. But before such bloodshed was to be had, banquets were thrown celebrating the alliances, and Merlin was expected to attend these events, sitting close to the king. The sorcerer hated it because feasts propelled him into the limelight too much. He didn't enjoy the attention on him, preferring to let King Bayard bask in that, but when you were one of the most powerful magic users known to date, well, people tended to gawk at you. He also knew that Bayard was quite proud of this, so Merlin suffered through it, even if only for his king's sake.

But it was always with a dark relief that he escaped to his room at the end of each night, tired and haggard and feeling older than he had for quite a while.  
  
Arthur was, incredibly enough, supportive during these nights. As he was being tonight while they sat in the eternally heated water in the large container Merlin bathed in.  
  
The sorcerer sat with his arms wrapped around his bent legs while he rested his head against his knees.  
  
Arthur sat behind him, using a large sponge to scrub Merlin's back. "It can't be all that bad."  
  
"It is," Merlin complained into his knees. "I hate war."  
  
Arthur went silent as he scrubbed a little harder.  
  
"They're down there getting drunk and merry at the thought of future bloodshed." Merlin sighed, feeling a little guilty for talking bad about Bayard and his guests in this manner, and yet Arthur was the only one he could tell these things to. "I don't understand that. I know that this war is necessary, that it cannot be helped, but they are so excited and anxious to start! How---how can that be possible from a human being?" He frowned. "Is it like that in Camelot?"  
  
"Yes." Arthur surprised him by answering. Usually the boy was incredibly closed-lip about his life before being captured. "My father told me that it was the warrior in the blood, the desire to protect your land and loved ones, and to prove that you are the strongest."  
  
Merlin harrumphed.  
  
"My mother said it was just men being men. That they needed the thrill of battle, and that if there weren't any reasons for war they made them up."  
  
Merlin smirked at that, deciding he probably would like Arthur's mother. "I think that in most cases your mother might be right."  
  
There was a pause. "I think so too."  
  
Encouraged by this odd yet enjoyable opportunity to learn more about the boy, Merlin felt himself finally relaxing. "Arthur?"  
  
"Hmm?" The sponge continue to scrub.  
  
"How old are you?"  
  
The sponge froze. "Why do you ask? You haven't before."  
  
"I know I haven't. That's why I'm asking now."  
  
There was another pause. "I---I turned seventeen a week ago."  
  
Merlin froze this time, before jerking around and flinging himself away from Arthur, facing him with wide eyes. "You were  _sixteen_  when you were captured?"  
  
Arthur was still holding the sponge and watching Merlin oddly. "Yes."  
  
"But I thought in Camelot you couldn't become a knight until you were eighteen!"  
  
Arthur's eyes were filled with defiance, his mouth a grim line as he tightened his hold on the sponge. "I snuck away to join the knights when they rode out of Camelot. Not even the knights realized who I was. I---I wanted to fight for my kingdom, for my people, but my father wouldn't let--he---I left a letter."  
  
Merlin's eyes were wide and horrified as he brought his hand to his mouth as images he would rather forget flashed before his eyes. "You're a  _child_."  
  
Those eyes burned viciously. "I am far from a child!"  
  
Merlin wasn't listening to him, standing, water cascading down his body as he fought a wave of nausea and panic. "If I had known...!"  
  
"You would have what? Left me in the dungeons? Let someone else have me?" Arthur snapped, standing up as well, equally as naked and clutching the sponge in a death grip. "Someone like Valiant? Someone who would have repeatedly raped me, allowed others just as monstrous to rape me as well, constantly beaten me, and then killed me once he grew tired of me or due to his brutality getting out of hand? He would have done all of that the first day of our imprisonment had you not stopped him - much less had he been allowed to have me!" His face was flushed with anger. "How _dare_ you - knowing that - say you would not have taken me as yours had you known my age?!?"  
  
The taller male really couldn't come up with a good answer to that, so he just sat back down, shaking his head in utter disbelief. "I wouldn't have touched you... had I known...I just thought you had a youthful face...I never realized..."  
  
Arthur growled in annoyance, throwing down the sponge and storming towards the still mumbling sorcerer before lowering himself down over him, straddling Merlin and effectively shutting him up by kissing him. It was harsh and angry and there was biting involved, and while Merlin tried to stop himself he was weak when it came to Arthur. Arthur pressed himself against Merlin's chest, kiss deepening, as he brought his master's hands around his body before burying his own hands in the dark hair, clutching fistfuls of it like Merlin had done to him before.  
  
It pained, but only a little.  
  
Merlin gave a little growl, arms going fully around Arthur and crushing him to his chest, both groaning when their cocks brushed against each other.  
  
Arthur tore his lips from the kiss only to begin nibbling experimentally down Merlin's jaw, biting down a little harder each time, gauging from Merlin's reactions how much pressure he liked.  
  
The sorcerer swore as his cock twitched at the sensations.  
  
Arthur had never done anything like this before. More and more the boy was going out of his comfort zone, was being more physical, more demonstrative, more sexual. Whereas Merlin had always initiated their sexual encounters, ever since the day Arthur had tried to escape the boy had steadily begun initiating things more and more on his own. Something had changed that day, and while Merlin was not quite sure what it was, he was horribly weak to its results.   
  
Hand spanning down Arthur's back, Merlin's fingers found that star between the cleft of his ass and hesitated a second, fingers circling the puckered hole. Arthur gave a little growl before biting harder into Merlin's shoulder and pushing down against the fingers.  
  
Unable to deny himself or Arthur, Merlin whispered a spell to add more lubricating qualities to the water, before slowly insinuating a finger inside.  
  
Arthur mewled above him, back arching, before he lowered himself roughly onto the finger, not giving himself the time Merlin would have given him to adjust. "Another."  
  
"You haven't.."  
  
" _Another_!"  
  
Smirking at just how bossy Arthur could be in these situations, Merlin forced another finger inside of him, without easing it in slowly as he usually would. He scissored his fingers, stretching Arthur, as the youth found his mouth in a more desperate way. Arthur pushed down against the fingers, fucking himself on the digits, body trembling with need and desire. " _Merlin_."  
  
That was the first time Arthur had ever said his name.  
  
Something inside Merlin snapped. He pulled his fingers out and grabbed Arthur's hips as the boy urgently brought one hand between them to align Merlin's cock...and the second it was done Arthur cried out as Merlin pushed down on his hips, impaling him in one swift movement.  
  
"Merlin!" Arthur whimpered, hiding his face in the curve of the sorcerer's neck, biting down on his own bottom lip as Merlin's grip tightened on his hips. Merlin moved the boy easily in the water, up and down, up and down, nearly lifting him off of him only to shove him down to the hilt once more. The sex was harder, rougher, than usual, and yet Arthur tightened his hold on Merlin and tried relaxing, whimpering his master's name over and over again in a breathless chant.  
  
Merlin's arm went around Arthur's back, anchoring him tightly as he thrust upwards. The other hand snuck up to capture one of Arthur's nipples, pinching and twisting, causing a seemingly electric sensation to race down Arthur's body straight to his cock, which hardened rapidly.  
  
The young man cried out as Merlin teased his nipple mercilessly, the slight pain seeming to stimulate Arthur's pleasure even more... and then Merlin was thrusting up against that spot that made Arthur see stars. The golden-haired youth half choked on his own cry when magic pulsed hot and agonizing over his cock like living silk, stroking and caressing him.  
  
Arthur let out a sound Merlin had never heard before as suddenly his whole body was shaking uncontrollably with his orgasm, Merlin still working him throughout it, prolonging the intense, agonizingly wonderful feeling before climaxing as well. Arthur rested his forehead against Merlin's shoulder, smiling softly as Merlin twitched inside of him.  
  
Merlin felt like he'd just died.  
  
He held on tightly to Arthur and refused to let go, both panting desperately, satiated and boneless.  
  
Never in his whole life had he ever felt like that when he'd---.  
  
The sorcerer closed his eyes tightly, refusing to continue that thought.  
  
Instead he pressed lazy kisses to the side of Arthur's face and his neck. "Let's go to bed."

* * *

  
  
Prince Arthur of Camelot lay awake deep into the night, gaze upon the face of the sleeping sorcerer. The prince was cradled in Merlin's arms, the sorcerer haven fallen asleep holding him, and Arthur wondered when this became a necessity to his bedtime routine. When he'd defied his father's orders and dressed up as a knight to join the others in battle---when they'd been caught---when that filth Valiant had tried to force him---Arthur had been scared though he'd refused to show it. And yet when Merlin (who'd been accompanying the king to the dungeons) had saved Arthur from the brutality... one look into those blue eyes and Arthur had felt confident somehow. Even when the king had given him to Merlin as a sex slave, even when he was forced to stay in the same room day after day, dying of boredom from being cooped up in that room, after having to...with Merlin...  
  
Arthur didn't understand why he was blushing.  
  
Even though his mind had rebelled against Merlin and their nights together to that point that it had made Arthur try to  _kill_  the sorcerer, well, his body had been more honest, melting immediately at the sorcerer's touch. His first time had scared him due to the memory of what Valiant and his minions had tried to do, and yet Merlin had soothed him, had eased him through it, and then sometime during the slow, sweet, torturously pleasurable rutting, Arthur's mind had absolutely melted with the pleasure that had overtaken him. Even though it had been his first time, Arthur had not only spilled himself over and over again in release, but every time Merlin had subtly given him an out the boy had not taken it.  
  
Never in his young life had Arthur ever felt that way before. It'd made him continuously lash out at Merlin afterwards out of pure confusion, frustration, and yet when he'd found out not only about Lancelot's existence but the fact that Merlin had forsaken Arthur _for days_ to instead spend them in Lancelot's bed, the darkness and anger that had bubbled inside of him had taken the blonde by utter shock. It was in that moment that'd he'd finally understood his feelings, as well as the fact that he was, for the first time in his life, jealous. And with that revelation Arthur couldn't keep pretending anymore.  
  
He'd developed feelings for the soft, gentle sorcerer who had all this amazing power in his hands... and yet spent nights awake at the thought of bloodshed and death of innocents on the battlefield, a man who was constantly trying to figure out a way to end the war peaceably, who, when he made love to Arthur, was always so considerate, so careful, who always made sure the blonde found his own earth-shattering completion before ending their fun, who used his own magic to chase away even the slightest hint of pain...  
  
Despite his previous complete lack of knowledge in this area Arthur wasn't stupid, he knew that Merlin didn't treat him like a sex slave. Merlin treated him like a lover, and Arthur... Arthur realized he'd come to view his 'master' in the same light. He wasn't terrified of Merlin like he was of the other Mercian men, men like Valiant, men like  _Bayard_ , who had given Arthur away to Merlin to be done with as pleased - and who had made it known that while he'd approved of Merlin stepping in to stop Valiant in the cells, that he was still more than happy to throw Arthur right back to Valiant or any other animal to 'teach', to  _break_.

There were stories about Mercians in Camelot, painting them out as vicious barbarians. Honestly, Arthur wasn't even sure  _why_ he'd been so shocked when Merlin had revealed that Mercians had a taste for inflicting pain during sex, it completely fit with the image that had been painted of them. And yet, well, Arthur had had a small taste of it himself and, while he could never see himself enjoying being truly hurt during sex, what Merlin had done to his body had amplified the pleasure that the blonde had felt. Even now, thinking back to those rough fingers, those impatient thrusts, caused him to shift in bed, moving closer to Merlin instinctively.

Somehow, despite how impossible it should be given their situation, Arthur had fallen for the idiot sorcerer. A part of it might be born from gratitude for Merlin having saved him from Valiant, and for the fact that he'd never tried to break him, on the contrary, Merlin and his magic...

Arthur gulped at the thought of Merlin  _and_ his magic, hardening at the memory of how that magic took over and played with him when the sorcerer's desire became too overwhelming. It'd been scary and confusing at first, but Arthur had not only gotten used to it, but had found himself enjoying it embarrassingly quickly. It'd been like having multiple Merlins all desperate for him, and the idea - the _image_ - may have overloaded Arthur's mind more than once. The idea that someone wanted him so desperately he'd basically  _split_ himself in two so as to have more of him made Arthur all kinds of confused and aroused. Arthur was the prince, he was used to being needed, but never truly being  _wanted_ , and he'd never even suspected how addicting the feeling could be once experienced. 

A groan escaped his lips as he continued to harden, and while he wanted to take the situation in hand he'd realized quite a couple of months ago that he couldn't find a satisfactory form of release if it wasn't with Merlin anymore, and the sorcerer was dead to the world right now, so the blonde would have to bear with his erection for the time being.

Sighing in frustration, Arthur turned on his back, looking up at the ceiling as guilt began to sink in.  
  
He knew his parents were putting up the pretense that he was 'sick' so that no one would get suspicious and wouldn't ever guess that amongst those captured was the future heir. He knew that it was the reason why his father was seeking alliances, and he knew that they were desperate to get him back, believing that he was going through all sorts of torture and hardships.  
  
The guilt intensified because not only was Merlin treating him so uncommonly good, but Arthur sometimes didn't want to be liberated.  
  
Arthur couldn't imagine his life without Merlin coming to their room in the evenings, couldn't imagine not listening to Merlin talk about how his day had gone, couldn't imagine not arguing with Merlin or having the makeup sex that always followed.  
  
The young prince closed his eyes.  
  
He knew he had to escape, knew he had go back and resume his place as heir to the throne. He knew he had to become Merlin's enemy.  
  
But he didn't want to.  
  
He wanted to stay with Merlin, to stay here, sleeping in his arms, to wake up randomly in the middle of the night to find their bodies tangled up in such a completely messy way.  
  
He wanted  _Merlin_.  
  
He couldn't fathom a life in which Merlin was the enemy, it made him sick at the stomach, so he refused to think of it anymore; refused to think of anything else that night.  
  
The future king turned towards his master, his lover, and curled into him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before closing his own eyes tightly.  
  
He knew the future was going to change things, but for now he had Merlin.  
  
He had Merlin.  
  
And if he ever had to let him go, Arthur swore to find a way to get the idiot sorcerer back.


End file.
